


I swear by my pretty floral bonnett

by Anuna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Crack-ish, F/M, Gen, Lance is also a troll, and Lance wants to be Switzerland, brotp for the win, but Ward is even a bigger troll, friendship fic, in which Trip and Fitz fight over Star Trek and Star Wars, post redemption, science fiction references, wished for season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Trip is team Star Trek and (Darth) Fitz is Team Star Wars and they desperately want to wrangle someone else in their debate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I swear by my pretty floral bonnett

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenitysea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/gifts), [Lily1986](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily1986/gifts).



> This is all **serenitysea's** fault, dammit. She started it and asked me to write Lance things and then my tumblr buddy **wanderingrookie** asked for a fic with Darth Fitz. Voila. I hope you guys like.

“We’re _better_ ,” says a voice with a thick accent while Lance is opening his beer. His feet are killing him and his back has seen a better day, and his split lip has mercifully stopped bleeding.

“As if,” another voice says, which Lance recognizes with comfortable-happy-with-himself-specialist – Tripplett. “You have Jar Jar Binks -”

“Much more tolerable than Wesleay Crusher,” retorts Fitz. “But let’s not even start on failing Starfleet technology.”

“It sure damn is better than a ship put together in a scrapyard!”

Ward chooses to walk into kitchen at the precise moment of last uttered statement. A short and loaded silence follows.

“ _Millenium Falcon_. Is. Indefinitely. _Better_. Than Starfleet ships and their constantly failing shields,” Fitz says and Lance is glad he doesn’t have to see the certain death look that must accompany his tone. Trip, that poor fool, laughs.

“Wrong move,” Lance says and Ward is grabbing another beer from the fridge.

“What’s going on?”

Lance smirks. “Agent Triplett is about to unleash the wrath of Darth Fitz on him,” Lance says, and starts whistling _Imperial March_ tune. From the lounge room echoes a debate about X Wings pilots versus runabouts from Deep Space Nine (finest Trek, if you ask Lance, and certainly the most badass Captain of the franchise). Ward frowns, explanation obviously going way over his head. “They’re having the ultimate geekdom debate. Star Trek versus Star Wars, and which one is better.”

Ward frowns further. “Why would they do that?”

Lance gets a sudden desire to beat his head against nearest hard surface.

“Are you really asking me this? Have you never…Oh what even am I asking,” he sighs and starts plotting a scheme involving Skye, lots of science fiction stuff and generous amounts of alcohol. And Ward. Because that man, as loyal as he is, is officially hopeless.

Lance finds his way to the lounge where Trip and Fitz are now fighting over the question who would win, Starfleet or The Empire.

( _Superior technology, Trip says,_

_Against incredibly superior numbers? Wouldn’t think so, Fitz replies,_

_Borg, Trip snorts, would just assimilate your troopers asses on the spot,_

_Oh? All it takes is a tiny little force choke, says Fitz, augmenting his statement with appropriate hand gesture._ )

Ward enters and raises both eyebrows.

“Hey, let’s ask them,” Trip says. Lance raises his hands, because he knows bloody better, and he’s not ready to find out if monkey loving genius could make a light saber.  
“Ah no, Darth Fitz and Jedi Master Triplett. _I_ am staying out of this, like a smart man that I am.”

“Ask us what?” Ward replies though, his face blank.

_Bloody fool_ , Lance thinks.

“Star Trek or Star Wars?” Trip says, giving Ward his most brilliant smile. At the same time Fitz is giving Ward a kind of terrifying look that only a person who can kill you with their brain could.

Ward takes a moment to look pensive.

“Alien,” he says finally.

“What??”

“What the hell??” Fitz shouts, and Lance nearly laughs.

Because, A class trolling. He reminds himself not to be fooled by Ward again.

Ward takes a seat on the floor, his back against the large comfy chair.

“It’s a story about fighting tooth and nail for your survival,” he says. Both Fitz and Trip wave their hands at him.

“Not cool, man,” Trip says.

“What’s not cool?” Skye asks as she enters the lounge, a beer in her hand.

“Skye, girl,” Trip starts sweetly,

“Star Trek or Star Wars?” Fitz asks, smiling at her brightly as if she brought him a hundred perfect little monkeys. Skye blinks at the non sequitur, and then in the next moment figures out what’s going on.

“Ah, no, guys. Nope. Not happening. Also, I love me some Alien trilogy,” she says.

Lance grins. Well, then, he thinks, looking at Ward who is coughing up his beer, until Skye comes over and pats him on the back a bit too hard.

“Alien’s awesome,” Ward says, failing at nonchalance.

“Besides, Ripley is such badass,” Skye adds approvingly. “But Prometheus sucks,” she adds.

"Prequels usually do," Ward adds and Skye eagerly nods.

“So,” Lance says from his spot. “How about a sci fi movie night?”

 

*

 

Three hours later, they’re maratoning Firefly (everyone throws popcorn at Lance’s head when he starts singing _The hero of Canton_ horribly off key and Skye is gleefully quoting along each and every iconic line from the show), when Coulson walks in. Lance, Fitz and Trip are on the couch, Skye in the big chair, and Ward still on the floor, looking insanely happy every time Skye touches him, or taps him on the shoulder, or anything.

(Seriously, this situation and the heart shaped eyes and the rivers in Egypt? It’s getting ridiculous. And embarrassing. Something has to be done.)

“Firefly?” Coulson asks.

“You know it, Sir?” Ward looks up from his spot on the floor.

“Of course I know it,” Coulson says, and truly, considering the shitton of nostalgic memorabilia the man hoards, knowing sci fi isn’t surprising at all.

“Which one do you like? Star Wars or Star Trek’” Trip asks hopefully, as May enters the room with a data pad she gives over to Coulson.

“Babylon Five,” he says.

“No!” Skye exclaims. Coulson grins in that all knowing, completely annoying manner of his and leaves. “Babylon Five?”

“Mira Furlan,” May says and winks. Actually _winks_. This day is full of surprises.

“Well, thankfully nobody said bloody Stargate,” Lance comments, because that one? First few seasons were okay, but the rest? Ridiculous. Especially that Universe thing. That was a bloody disaster.

May pauses at the door.

“I _have heard you_ ,” she says.

Well, crap.

“Oops?” Trip offers once she’s gone.

“May the force be with you,” Fitz adds.


End file.
